


A Nightingale Sang In Berkeley Square

by alekstraordinary



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: 6000 Years of Pining (Good Omens), Because they're in love so much, Bittersweet, Canon, Fluff, It's sweet, M/M, Miracle Work, Miracling, They're basically doing miracle by accident
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2020-06-28 03:58:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19804252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alekstraordinary/pseuds/alekstraordinary
Summary: The first time an angel and a demon dined together at the Ritz, a nightingale sang in Berkeley Square. Some would call it a miracle, and they would be correct.





	A Nightingale Sang In Berkeley Square

**Author's Note:**

> Would you look at that, I can actually write fluff! Well, I suppose this isn't a 100% fluff, since there is one (1) frankly angsty paragraph, but other than that, this fic is just pure fluff. Just 1000-odd words of Aziraphale and Crowley being in love with each other so much it actually has an impact on the world around them.  
> The companion song for this one is, obviously, their anthem and canon song: A Nightingale Sang In Berkeley Square by Vera Lynn  
> Enjoy!

The first time an angel and a demon dined together at the Ritz, a nightingale sang in Berkeley Square. Granted, most likely nobody even knew about it, let alone heard it over the business and clamor of London streets, but if one was to see a nightingale singing that night in Berkeley Square, they would be, without a doubt, very much confused. It was, both, an early autumn and a very early evening--both of which deviated from a nightingale's usual singing habits, which drive it to singing not only during the warmest months but also the latest of hours. Seeing--if anyone was to see it--a nightingale singing on a very early evening of early autumn in Berkeley Square, of all places, would be, at the very least, highly unlikely. Some would even call it a small miracle.

And that is exactly what it was.

Angels can perform miracles--it's common knowledge. What is less known, however, is that demons can perform miracles as well. There is a prevailing misconception that, once Fallen in the Rebellion, the damned angels lost everything that made them angels: their status, their wings, their powers and anything that would otherwise make them divine. That is incorrect. Out of three things listed, demons only lost their status. Of course, they also lost their place in Heaven, their faith, their attachment to the Almighty's good grace as well as many other things, but that's digressing. No matter how much they lost, they didn't lose their wings and they didn't lose their powers--the very powers that allowed them to perform their own demonic miracles. Granted, now sentenced to eternal damnation, the only "good" use of said powers was tempting unsuspecting people into sin and inconveniencing them in the most frustrating manners. It didn't have to be this way, but this is what all the demons consciously choose to use their powers for.

Except not all the miracles performed are a conscious decision which--surprisingly--nobody really knew about. We could speculate about the reasons as to why it was like this, but truth be told, it's as painfully obvious as it is depressing. The angels weren't really supposed to experience any emotions at all and instead follow the orders they were given. That was their purpose, to fulfill the Almighty's will. You can understand now why once emotions--or worse, feelings--were involved, rather peculiar things began to happen and no one would expect that the reason for these occurrences was an angel and a demon falling in love.

You see, since angel and demons weren't supposed to be experiencing feelings (at least not on a grand scale), there was no way for anyone to predict what would happen if there was an angel and a demon feeling about each other so strongly. There was no way of knowing that their powers, the powers used to conscious miracle work, would slip from under their control and intertwine themselves with the very matter of the universe, pulling the energies into a complicated dance resulting with--as you might have guessed--performing concussions miracles. Understandably, these weren't miracles on a grand scale nor were they very noticeable if one wasn't explicitly looking for them, but they were very much there. They were so little, in fact, that it took centuries to notice them even for the ones who were causing it. But these small miracles were truly miraculous even for a miracle's standard. A normal miracle requires the effort and thought and the energy put into it, whereas what Aziraphale and Crowley were causing were simply manifestations of love.

It started off very small in what humans with their perspective of time would call a long long time ago. At that point in time, Aziraphale and Crowley had not only known each other for quite a while, they had also grown fond of each other--obviously. The year was 41AD when their feelings (Aziraphale's, in this case) slipped out of control and intervened with the world around, even if ever so slightly. They were together at  Patronius' newly opened restaurant after they had done their jobs blessing and tempting, enjoying oysters and wine near the entrance, and they talked. About what, it had blurred over the many many years, but the topic of their conversation wasn't all that important, anyway. What was important was the moment when Crowley made Aziraphale laugh with some snarky remark, it made Aziraphale's angelic being stir and turn pleasantly inside of his body. That turn was exactly when his divine powers slipped, worked itself into the universe without neither the angel nor the demon noticing. Nobody noticed that slip-up, really, perhaps except some child passying by at that  time , opening up their curious eyes, taken aback by how vibrant hyacinths and violets by Patronius' restaurant had suddenly become. 

There were numerous occurrences like this over the many, many years of their love, most of which were spend in either denial or active avoiding the topic and the feelings themselves, but there were a few quite more notable moments.

One of the kind happened in 1601 during what Crowley liked to call "Shakespeare's gloomy ones". Neither Shakespeare nor his plays were very popular back then, but it was bound to change that afternoon--even though this is not exactly what we should be focusing on there. The miracle of getting people interested in "Hamlet" was a conscious miracle, something Crowley chose to do for no other reason than to make Aziraphale happy. The angel's joy that resulted in it, however, was exactly what caused another miracle to happen. It was a rather tiny one, but it would have a long-time effect on one human soul, which in itself is rather magnificent. See, the absolute love-struck happiness Aziraphale felt when Crowley offered to make "Hamlet" recognizable caused some of his angelic being to shake up again, mess around with the very fabric of the universe and make the oysters and grapes sold by a woman named Juliet in the theater this much more tasty and fresh. It might not seem like much, but it brought her plenty of customers in the long run and significantly improved her life. All because one angel was in love with a demon.

Another unintentional miracle happened in the year 1941, once again in London. This one would have greater conesequences, although nobody would ever find out about it, since instead of creating out of thin air or improving the things already exisiting, it prevented something from happening. Aziraphale's grace went out for a waltz with the energies ruling the world once again late at night, in the ruins of a freshly bombed church, in the seconds following Crowley rescuing his books. Their hands touched briefly as Crowley gave Aziraphale the leather bag before strolling away with his usual "lift home?" as if nothing special happened at all. But something special has happened, actually, because in that moment, as Aziraphale looked after Crowley, he had realized something of great importance. He had realized that the feelings that have been growing inside of him ever since their encounter on Golgotha all these years ago, the very feelings that caused numerous involuntary works of devine power, the feelings he was so scared of acknowledging were  reciprocated . That night, another bomb was meant to fall on London. It didn't. 

Although normally a miracle is associated with good happenings, this is not always the case, and its very definition--as usual for humans--is rather inaccurate. The correct definition of a miracle would be simply a work of devine or demonic power, no matter whether the result it brings could be considered good or bad or neutral or just annoying. That, of course, also applies to the very rare miracles that are performed subconsciously, and these might not always bring inherently good results, just like it happened in 1967, on the night when Aziraphale brought Crowley a thermos filled with holy water. That's not what triggered the rather unforuntate miracle to happen, it was only after Aziraphale's "you go too fast for me, Crowley" hanged in the air and they kept sitting there, almost mockingly, long after the Bentley drove away. The Bentley that was now playing every song about heartbreak known to man, on repeat, no matter how badly Crowley was trying to stop it. It wasn't the definition of a  bad  miracle, but it was definitely an example of an  annoying one. Well. It could be considered a  good one, since it was clearly giving Crowley pointers that the feeling he's had for Aziraphale since the Garden of Eden was reciprocated, but let's be honest. Crowley was never good at taking hints. 

Neither of them were, really. But at some point, it's started to change. As clueless as they were up until this point, finally, Aziraphale and Crowley began noticing that there was something going around them whenever they were together and it was no coincidence-- they  were the direct result of flowers smelling stronger, of more ducks swimming around in ponds, for leaves and grass to be greener and, sometimes, they were the cause of a sudden rain or a gush of cold wind. They've realized that even if they could lie to themselves, they couldn't lie to the world and to their own powers, that what they felt was too strong for them to stop from intervening with the world. And that was terrifying. And that lead to even more heartbreaks and even more  bad miracles. But they couldn't stay away from each other. They never could.

All the issues were eventually sorted out, and despite a few bumps here and there, things were mostly good between Aziraphale and Crowley. More than good, even. Being so near death, almost losing one another and getting closer than ever before to stop the Armageddon from happening, which resulted with both of them having to defy their respective sides and eventually choosing their own--all of it lead them to taking the step they were always so afraid of taking. That night, when they celebrated at the Ritz and exchanged the confessions that meant "I love you" and so much more, once again, a nightingale sang in Berkeley Square. 


End file.
